Friday, March 19, 2010

Daily Assignment 03-19-10

Friday, March 19, 2010

Today’s Assignment: (Assigned by Mistress Ellen) Blow Job Friday. Drive to your usual place for stripping. Remove all of your clothes with the exception of your denim duster. Shoes are your choice. Drive to any public restroom and go into the Men’s Room. Once you are inside take off your duster and off to give blowjobs to anyone who is currently in the bathroom. If there is no one present wait until someone enters and offer to give them a blowjob. Leave the restroom holding your duster and drive home with it on the seat next to you.

Yesterday’s Assignment: (Assigned by Master Benedictine) Dress in a tube top, mini skirt, bra, panties, high heels and your duster and go to your local mall. Bring a pair of scissors and a vibrator with you. Do not close your duster. Go to four different stores. In a dressing room in each store cut off one piece of clothing. As you cut off clothing you may button one button of your duster closed for each piece of clothing. In the final dressing room, cut off your panties and masturbate to orgasm. Once you are wearing nothing but your duster and high heels, drive to your favorite stripping location on the back country road, go to the front of your truck and remove your duster. Get out two lengths of rope. Sit in the center of the seat of your truck and tie the rope to your ankles. Run the ropes through the open windows and around the mirrors and the pull them tight, spreading your legs. Tie the rope to your steering wheel. Get out your vibrator and masturbate until you explode. Then you may untie yourself and get dressed.

Yesterday afternoon I spent a few minutes going through some old clothes. Specifically, a bunch of clothes that I no longer wear because my mom would explode in shock and my dad would have a heart attack if they knew I even OWNED them. Most of them dated back to either high school or my first two years of college. After rummaging around for a few minutes I picked out a black mini skirt that was getting a little threadbare and red tube top that I wasn’t that fond of (the color was just a little too neon.) These got shoved in my bag along with my high heels, my seven inch curved vibrator, an old lace bra, a pair of red panties, and two six foot lengths of rope. The panties were very old and the bra was getting worn out, so no worries. Lastly, I grabbed a pair of scissors.

I headed out the door dressed in my usual jeans, shirt, bra, panties, socks, and boots and jumped into my truck. The short little drive to my favorite stripping spot: the shoulder of a rarely used back country road on the south side of our farm, went relatively fast and I jumped out of the truck with my new outfit and moved to the front grill. Quickly I removed my shirt, folded it, and placed it on the hood. Next my bra followed, leaving me bare breasted. Then I kicked off my boots, peeled off my socks, which I folded nicely, then I shucked out of my jeans. These two I folded and lay on the truck hood and then finally I peeled off my panties, leaving me stark naked. With a disappointed glance I looked down the empty road. Oh well. I pulled on the red panties, put on the old bra, slipped the mini skirt back on and then pulled the tube top over my head. There was a sudden roar and another pick up truck came around the curve and rolled past me without even slowing.

Oh SURE. NOW YOU COME! BASTARD! WHERE WERE YOU TWO MINUTES AGO!

Um…where was I? Oh yeah. I put on the tube top, then I realized I had a serious problem. Tube tops don’t go with bras. The straps show. I stood there, trying to decide what I wanted to do. I looked stupid frankly. Finally I decided just to go with it and wear my duster into the mall. It would hide the bra straps until I had the tube top cut off. I put on my high heels, gathered everything up, and headed to the mall.

I like our local mall. It’s huge. Lots of stores, including Rainforest Café, which I love to go to. I like watching the fish. But today I was doing some clothes stuff so I parked and headed into the mall wearing what I’m sure looked to be a very odd outfit, since I was dressed in a red tube top, black mini-skirt, black strap high heels, and a denim duster. How’s that for fashion disaster? So I walked a bit and found a perfect target: Charlotte Russe.

For appearances sake I selected a nice shirt and headed back to the dressing rooms. The nice girl working nearby gave me a smile, even though her eyes widened a bit at my duster and outfit, but I got into the dressing room without any issues. Once inside I put down my bag, took off my denim coat, and removed the scissors from the pocket. Looking in the mirror I put the shears at my exposed belly button and started cutting upward. Cloth separated, tore, and suddenly the whole elastic band just came apart, falling downward to the ground and it left me standing there in a black mini-skirt, bra, and panties.

I tucked everything away, though I left the cut up shirt on the little seat. Pulling the duster back over my body I buttoned up the very bottom button. This created an interesting situation since my duster has six buttons. I was allowed to close one button per clothing item removed, but I had to start at either the top or the bottom (per Master Benedictine). I choose to start at the bottom. This would make my duster kind of fall open near the top, but I thought this was better than flashing my slit every time I took a step. With the store’s shirt in hand I opened the door, leaving my cut up tube top on the bench. I was of course eyeballed by the clerk, but other than her noticing that I left the store’s merchandise on the rack, I was not really noticed.

Until I left the store of course. Then the fact that I was wearing a denim coat with only one button at the bottom secured and my white bra clearly exposing the fact I wasn’t wearing a shirt seemed to attract a lot of attention. I moved on down the corridors to my next target: Juicy Couture, where I was able to avoid some of the second glances being directed my way.

I managed not to attract the attention of the clerks in this store and headed to the back where the dressing rooms were. I picked up a shirt off the rack but then had second thoughts and went and made SURE that clerks knew what I was taking in. I very intelligently held the shirt in front of me too! So finally I was locked in a tiny cubicle and ready for the next step. I unbuttoned my denim jacket, took out my scissors, and carefully cut my skirt from hem to waist.

To be honest, there was a mental component to this whole experience. See, when you’re walking around dressed like a slut, you know that all you have to do is leave, or buy different clothing. But since I had left my purse in the truck and only had my scissors and keys, the very act of CUTTING my clothes off was disturbing. It meant no going back. It was final. And it turned me on…desperately. I buttoned up my duster, this time closing the bottom two of the six buttons. Major amounts of my skin was showing, not to mention easily recognizable swaths of panties and bra. I exited, returned the shirt to the clerks, and stepped out into the mall.

Why did this have to happen on Spring Break? It was awkward enough as it was! But the mall was packed and the eyes of every man who actually looked at me widened in delighted surprised as I moved past them. I know that every step caused my duster to ripple open before closing again. I quickly ducked into the next store on my list after a lengthy walk.

Everything went exactly like before, right down to getting into the stall. Once again I opened my duster, examining my semi-nude body before pulling out my scissors. I knew that a few quick snips separated me from being naked. I swallowed the lump of tension in my throat and went to work. I felt the bra snap and break away and next thing I knew it was laying on the floor in pieces.

My bare breasts were plainly visible in the mirror and I stowed my scissors and started buttoning up my denim duster. Three buttons didn’t make a lick of difference, and I knew my entire chest would be visible under the right conditions. Even if I stood completely still and straight there would be a line of bare skin a few inches across running all the way down to my waist. The good news was that the buttons now completely concealed my panties.

The walk to the last store was even more embarrassing. Guys were turning their heads to see the girl in the duster and high heels, who was apparently wearing nothing else. They didn’t know about the panties, but in a sense they were merely seeing the future. I ducked into 5-7-9 and went to the back of the store and lodged myself in a dressing room.

I pulled out two items this time: the scissors and my vibrator. I cut the crotch out of my panties, cringing just a little bit as I did. What can I say? The air was cold! Okay, it wasn’t so much the air but WHAT I was doing. I mean seriously, I had just cut away the last article of clothing I was wearing with the exception of a duster! I grabbed my vibrator, sat down, settled myself with one leg propped up and started my masturbation session.

I wish I could tell you that the door suddenly popped open with a startled and wide eyed looking sales lady, whose face turned scarlet with fury. I wish I could tell you that she grabbed me by the hair, forced me to the floor, and then proceeded to spank the living daylights out of my pussy, aiming every solid blow for the wet spot between my legs. I’d like to tell you that she and another sales clerk forced me to lay spread open while they used belts on my breasts, and my clit, while I came and came and came. I’d like to tell you they cut the buttons of my duster, forcing me to hold it closed with my hands.

But I can’t. I can’t say any of those things because this isn’t a Michael Alexander story and none of it happened. I wish it had. But I managed to have my quiet yet intense orgasm in the dressing room, put everything away and even managed to head back out into the mall with just four buttons closed and even the majority of my chest concealed. I made it back out to my truck with no one the wiser.

And so I finished the first part of yesterday’s assignment, but by no means was that all. Oh no…I still had a whole ‘nother masturbation session coming up, one that had me almost as tense as cutting away my entire wardrobe at the mall. I headed south and a little east and ended up back on my little back road. I pulled off into the grass and got out the things I needed: namely my vibrator and the two lengths of rope.

I started off by getting out of the truck. I went to the front just like I was supposed to and carefully looked both ways down the road. Nada. Nothing. Zip. Not a single car. I waited for a couple minutes. Still nothing. Oh well. I took off my coat, folded it slowly, and laid it on the hood of the car. Then, wearing nothing but my heels I moved back to the cab, got in, and grabbed the rope.

It took me a moment to tie the ends of each of the two ropes around my ankles. It wasn’t a fancy knot. Just enough to stay on and stay tight. Then I moved to the very center of the truck, opened the windows, did some crafty maneuvering, and ended up slouched in the center of the seat, holding on to two pieces of rope. Slowly I pulled and I felt my ankles come up and then my legs began to split wider and wider. I tugged and pulled until I felt the ache in my thighs and I had the heels of my shoes sticking out both sides of the truck, which on a Ford F-150 is a pretty impressive thing.

I had originally planned on tying the ropes to the steering wheel, but due to my position, I just tied them together. It did the job. To be honest, in hindsight, I probably didn’t need to do quiet so good a job, because after my ten minutes vibrating to orgasmic bliss, it took me almost as long to get loose. The knots had pulled very tight and I was stuck in a very awkward position. It was almost comical. The only thing that could have made it better was if someone had driven past…or even better…stopped. Oh well.

So that was my little adventure. I got dressed in my jeans and shirt and panties and regular bra and headed back to the house. Tomorrow is another day…and another assignment!

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Twenty ago Michael Alexander began writing erotic BDSM fiction. Over thirty stories and six novels later Michael started his own blog and website. Join us here at the blog for behind the scenes glimpses, news, vignettes, and excerpts from www.michaelalexanderstories.com

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